


Guilt

by Rysler



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-18
Updated: 2011-04-18
Packaged: 2017-10-18 08:43:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rysler/pseuds/Rysler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warning: incest</p>
    </blockquote>





	Guilt

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: incest

The girl had her uses--Helen was glad to have made her, glad, even, for the father's DNA. The result in Ashley was a tough brashness. Mental and physical strengths that went beyond the golem and into the cyborg realm. Though Ashley thought of herself as a powerful and independent woman. Of course.

She did everything mummy told her to do.

And the more Helen stroked that massive ego--the legacy of two that had the audacity to create the Sanctuary, to hunt abnormals of both society and species--the better the results. Let Ashley do whatever she wanted, and she'd eat out of Helen's hand.

Ashley liked weapons. Big ones between her legs. Just like a knife or a gun. A shaft... a barrel. And a target. Fucking her mother was a game that would appeal to Ashley, just as fucking monsters appealed to Helen. Same thing, really. The harder Ashley could go, the more Helen screamed, the better the missions went.

It was...invigorating.

How Helen had gone so many years without it--utter nonsense.

Tonight's event took place in one of the less established safe houses that Ashley preferred for its garage and its view of the pier. Murk and the faint smell of fish and industrial oil were the trade-offs for Ashley's bag of tricks. Helen liked to think she was responsible for Ashley's cleverness and resourcefulness, but the girl was simply greater than the sum of her parts.

She thrust into Helen with a cock not too wide in girth, but covered in metalwork that created a cold, bruising sensation. Helen fell back in the clean sheets--she'd insisted on those--and let Ashley torture her with slow, penetrating strokes.

Ashley was certainly not the ungainly, horny half-grown adult that she was when they started. She had honed her aggression. She had learned focus. And now, with her hair falling on Helen's face, across her neck, and her hands pinning Helen's arms against the bed, Helen could almost feel the monster against her. Inside her. Threatening to tear her apart.

"Ashley," she pleaded.

The thumping of Ashley's hips increased. The fingers on her arms tightened. They'd leave bruises.

"It's too much," Helen said. She turned her head to the side. Ashley's hair whipped her cheek. Ashley's breath burned her ear.

"Stop!"

Ashley gave a monumental thrust and then collapsed on Helen, a quivering, gasping mess, leaving Helen feeling impaled, but free. She clutched Ashley tight. Her daughter. Helen retained her victory--Ashley came first, no matter the circumstances or the trials.

She needed more training. More practice. But the fundamentals were there, and had been honed--Ashley was ferocious to the point of soullessness.

Almost.

Maybe next time she would break Helen in two.

This time, recovered enough to rise on her arms, Ashley resumed her thrusting. Gentle. Cruel.

If she could do anything to her mother, then she could do anything to anyone.

That would keep the Sanctuary alive.


End file.
